


Are you A Wolf or A Dragon, little Bird?

by hawkeyescoffee



Series: Jonsa Week 2019 by Aleks [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, F/M, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Marriage of Convenience, make out in a lake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeyescoffee/pseuds/hawkeyescoffee
Summary: The Keep was decorated wonderfully in gold silver, Targaryen and Stark banners flying high in the wind. Sansa tried to shake herself out of her nostalgia and smiled at the people they passed on the way in, thanking them for their good wishes and blessings. Rhaenys watched her with a grin of her own. Rhaegar’s oldest was a true dornish beauty. Her skin and hair as dark as her mothers, that seemed to be glowing in the noon sun. The light also reflected in her gorgeous purple eyes, the only indicator of her Targaryen heritage. Sansa loved Rhaenys. She had been a true friend to her ever since she had arrived in the capital with Jon. But when Sansa was thinking back on the second time Jon visited them with a message of the King’s she wished she never had made it here.Jonsa Week Day 7: [Bastards- Royalty] - Free Choice
Relationships: Jon Snow & Arya Stark & Bran Stark & Rickon Stark & Robb Stark & Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Aegon VI Targaryen
Series: Jonsa Week 2019 by Aleks [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546636
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Are you A Wolf or A Dragon, little Bird?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I am super duper late, but at last here we are. So, enjoy.  
> The next chapter of TIOMLFY should be up soon too. I'm sick rn but I'm doing my best

Sansa moved out of the great sept with the Royal Family by her side, who's colors were decorated her wedding cloak. A dark midnight black¸ filled with one mighty blood red dragon and fire liking at the seem of the cloth. She smiled at Princess Rhaenys taking her arm. Sansa was a Princess of the Realm too. The beauty next to her was her good sister now. Her live was good, everyone says so. Their new Princess was blessed by the Gods, the people assured her.

Sansa Stark, the oldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark was a beauty herself. Her fire kissed hair matched her new house and for as long as everyone in the North remembered the young girl wanted to go South and by part of the Royal Court. Now she had her wish and surrounded by powerful Lords and Ladies, Princes and Princesses and the King and Queen themselves and the masses screaming congratulations to her, Sansa never wanted to be home more.

There was a small rustling sound and a featherlight touch to her upper arm and she realized it was Jon, who came to help his sister escort Sansa into the Keep. Jon wore a simple black armor, almost inconspicuous compared to the lavish fashion in the capitol. All around the Kings youngest didn’t seem to be the type for the southern style of clothing and appearance. He mostly preferred the dark black of the Targaryen sigil and he kept his beard and hair as northern as he could get away with.

Jon was Sansa’s cousin, the son of her fathers beloved sister and well, somewhat the reason Sansa was here today.

She remembered the first time she had laid eyes on him: The whole Stark family had been waiting outside to greet their Kings son and more importantly: Their Kin. She remembered how startled she had been when Jaehaerys had taking of the hood of his cloak to reveal a face that looked so much like Eddards himself. There was nothing Targaryen in his face: His hair was dark and his eyes were grey as a storm.

He seemed awkward and not sure how to approach the family he didn’t know. His mother, Lyanna Stark had died in childbirth and her brothers had no intentions to go back south after what the Mad King had done, even after his heir forced him to resign and ceased the throne, no Stark would go there anyway.

In the end Ned stubbled forward, grabbed the boy his own heir’s age by the shoulders, looked him in the face and hugged him. “Welcome home.”, was all he said. The boy looked a bit chocked up as he answered: “Thank you, Uncle. Thank you for accepting me into your home.”

He then walked over to their mother, bowing: “Lady Stark.” Just to look up insecure: “Aunt?”, It was not a statement, it was an unsure question. Catelyn smiled reversed: “Nephew, welcome.” Robb moved first, hugged his new family tight, with obvious glee. “Cousin!”, he called, “We will have a loth of fun. I am sure.” He just nodded. To be honest the warmth of the greeting left him looking a bit uneasy.

Sansa had nodded into his direction: “Cousin Jaehaerys. Welcome to Winterfell.” He had watched her, curiously so. She didn’t know what his gaze meant but there was a spell of silence between them and she didn’t know if she even wanted him to address her again or wanted to stare at him some more. But time did not wait for anyone. Eventually he bowed and said: “Thank you, Cousin Sansa.”

And then after another unsure pause he added: “Please call me Jon. Father said my mother wanted to call me Jon, but they couldn’t give me a northern name. I- My siblings call me Jon too… Even queen Elia does, if it’s not in an official circumstance.”

“Yes, of course. Welcome, Jon.”, Sans smiled at him, wide and honest. She noticed her Fathers lips quiver ever so slightly when Lyanna was mentioned, but it was gone so fast she didn’t know if she really saw anything in the first place.

The Star Siblings fell in Love with Jon fast and after a few days it was almost if they had known him their entire lives. Robb and Jon would spar with each other almost every morning, comparing technics and forming a friendly rivalry that kept them both on their toes and improved both their skills rapidly. As Ned and Robb Jon did not dismiss Arya’s desire to learn her way with the sword. He helped her with her (not so) secrete lessons and promised to bring her a sword the next time he would visit them. He told them stories about his own sister’s weapon training with her uncle. Something the people of the capitol didn’t love but excepted because of their Princess’s dornish heritage. Bran listened intently to Jon’s tales of tournaments and knights. And asked if he ever wanted to become part of his brothers Kings Guard. Jon just shrugged, but his gaze landed on Sansa when he speculated about a future with children. Blushing she tired to not read anything into it as she excused herself. Back then she only had been twelve years of age. But her feelings four her cousin would be growing over time.

The Keep was decorated wonderfully in gold silver, Targaryen and Stark banners flying high in the wind. Sansa tried to shake herself out of her nostalgia and smiled at the people they passed on the way in, thanking them for their good wishes and blessings. Rhaenys watched her with a grin of her own. Rhaegar’s oldest was a true dornish beauty. Her skin and hair as dark as her mothers, that seemed to be glowing in the noon sun. The light also reflected in her gorgeous purple eyes, the only indicator of her Targaryen heritage. Sansa loved Rhaenys. She had been a true friend to her ever since she had arrived in the capital with Jon. But when Sansa was thinking back on the second time Jon visited them with a message of the King’s she wished she never had made it here.

Jon arrived in a similar fashion the next time he made it up to Winterfell, but this time the greetings where way more familiar than back then. Sansa was almost fourteen back then and when she could finally put her arms around Jon, her heart skipped a beat. He smelled like freshly fallen snow and leather. So, she inhaled a final time before she let go and for a few seconds he held on to her shoulders and then just like that moved on to hug Arya. Sansa tired (and failed) not to dwell on the feeling of loss that rose up in her and moved to stand closer to her mother.

Jon gave Ned the letter at dinner. They were seated in the small hall, with only a few other Inhabited of the Keep sitting among the Starks. The meal had been delightful so far: Arya and Bran were glued to Jon’s lips as he talked about the knighting of a young lad that had taken place a few days bevor his journey. Rickon dropped ever so often treats for Shaggy Dog, believing he was subtle. Robb tired to distract Jon from his tale at every opportunity he got, snickering overtime his cousin glared at him. And Sansa? She had to use every ounce of her self-control to not stare at Jon’s lips. To be quite honest, she had no idea what he had just said, but the movements of his mouth were almost hypnotic to her.

Father hadn’t opened the letter that Jon gave to him at the beginning of the meal, but now that he had finished, cleaned his hands and allowed the other guests to leave, he took the heavy preachment into his hands. Opening the seal carefully, he read the elegantly curved words that the King had written. He became pale and then pressed his lips together in silent anger. He got on his feet and asked his wife to follow him, leaving his children behind in confusion. But Jon just watched his feat in shame, because he had known what came and hadn’t told them, hadn’t told Sansa.

Latter that night Sansa learned that the King wanted to marry her to his son and wanted to move her south to be part of the royal family. She didn’t know how she felt about that. The prospect to go south, to be part of the Court, to be a Princess, excited her to no end. But on the other hand, she loved her family and didn’t want to leave them now that she even got along with Arya. No Stark had gone south since her Aunt Lyanna had fallen in love with the King, so she would most likely never see her parents again, and her siblings? Would they ride south the see her?

She would be a Princess, yes, but Jon would be the only person she would know there and that scared her to no end.

When Jon was preparing to leave this time, she sneaked into his chambers and kissed him. The idea had been an ill-conceived, one that would not leave her alone. The kiss was shy and careful, barely anything more than lips pressing together, but it filled her insides with warmth and a content feeling of belonging. Sansa felt like she belonged to Jon. It could have been so easy couldn’t it? She could just stay here with Jon, stay home with him, be happy.

But Jon rode south again soon, and all Sansa had left this time, was a aching longing for him and the memory of her first kiss.

The great hall was decorated with gold and shining candles. There was a feast and there would be a tournament tomorrow to Sansa’s honor. Rhyerys helped her sit on the highchair on the head end of the table, next to her husbands empty one. Jon slipped away somewhere on their way in. She could not tell were he was now, but without him here, she felt utterly alone.

Sansa watched the crowed. There were so many noble men, so many young Ladies that were here to find a good match to marry themselves. If they new how alone she felt amongst them, would they think her ungrateful? She felt like she was ungrateful. All she wanted was to be home again, or at least to have her family here, but all Starks were home North, were Wolves belong and she was here surrounded by Dragons, alone.

Jon had waited for her outside of Winterfell with a few of his Fathers men, when Sansa rode outside with five of her own Father most trusted men. It had been a year and a half since she last saw him, since she had kissed him, since he had brought the King’s marriage proposal north. And now Sansa was on her way to the capitol to honor the Engagement and marry into the royal family.

His greetings were cold and distant, and she felt the warm flames of anger growing in her. She had nothing to do with their fathers’ decision or this marriage. She was just the one to carry the consequences, just like he had to.

There journey was quiet, uneasily so. Sansa didn’t know what to say to him or if she wanted to say something to him, because she was angry and hurt. Yes, she was to marry but so was he and what kind of right did he had to be mad at her (only at her). But she also longed to touch him. She was sixteen now and the dull ache in her heart that tormented her every time she thought about Jon just grew stronger and more desperate, but for the most part Jon had ignored her.

Until he didn’t.

It was late at night, when they were already in the Riverlands, when he talked to her again, really talk to her again. One thing let to another and he had kissed her. It was different than the last time, the first time. It was sloppy and passionate and almost desperate, as if it would be the last time, he could kiss her, as if he could never hold her like that again. Maybe it would be.

But she didn’t want it to stop. They made their way down to a little lake, away from their party, away from prying eyes. That’s were she kissed him again and again and again, dragging her tongue down his throat and listening to his ragged breathing. She wanted him, she realized. That had been the hot feeling in her belly this whole time. It had been want. 

Jon pulled her closer than, touching her everywhere. His warm hands were a stark contrast to the cold water in the summer nights air. The want in her grew with every touch. She needed him inside her. She did not entirely know how this worked but she could not wait until her wedding night to try it. It may had been stupid, when she thought about it, but in the moment his touch was all she could think about at that moment anyway.

She pressed flush to him and felt his penis swollen and pressing against her own private parts. It was embarrassing how exited she was. Grabbing onto his jar she pressed her lips against his again. Taking initiative when he opened his mouth in a low moan, she thrusted his tongue inside.

This kiss was wet and sloppy, and she could not stop putting his hands on him. His clothes were in the way she noticed annoyed. She pulled at them, but Jon stopped her. She whined, when he untangled them and put space between them.

“Sansa…”, his voice was rough and drove a shiver down her spine. Biting her lip at the sensation she tried to get close to him again, but he stopped her. “Sansa we can’t do this. The wedding is soon. There will be a bedding ceremony. We- You- This is not right.”

He was right. She knew he was right, but it was not fair.

As Sansa watched the crowd, there was movement next to her. She put a pretty smile on her face, when Aegon looked at her. The prince was pretty, just like his sister. She knew that he hated to be called pretty, but he was. He looked just like the King: fair skin and even paler hair and those clear violet eyes, but his built was his mothers, tall and elegant.

As he took her hand, she tried to reciprocate the gentle pressure, but it felt dull.

In what kind of world was she living that she would have rather married her bastard cousin than the heir to the throne?

Sansa looked again thru all the happy and smiling faces, but could not spot Jon.


End file.
